


A Perfect World Is One We'd Never Know

by LaBelleDameSansMerci



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-07
Updated: 2013-10-07
Packaged: 2017-12-28 16:49:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/994242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaBelleDameSansMerci/pseuds/LaBelleDameSansMerci
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gender-bent Starks.  In which boy!Sansa's love of songs and stories lead to dreams of being a White Cloak, girl!Jon looks a bit too much like Lyanna to escape Robert's notice, and war is Westeros' inevitable fate.  </p><p>Warnings to allusions to rape (though no descriptions), mentions of violence, and graphic (consensual) sex.</p><p>Angst may abound in the beginning, but there's a light at the end of the tunnel, I swear!</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Perfect World Is One We'd Never Know

When King Robert's party finally arrives in Winterfell, Sanos Stark immediately turns his attention from the (somewhat disappointing) pudgy king and instead focuses on Ser Jaime Lannister, the Golden Knight of the Kingsguard. The best swordsman in all of Westeros, it is said. 

Some might argue the point, claim it is Prince Joffrey's loyal Hound, Sandor Clegane, or his brother, Ser Gregor, who should hold that title. But Sanos dismisses such notions as petty jealousy. For Ser Jaime is both handsome and nobly born, a true knight if ever there was one. (Sanos dismisses the whispers of Kingslayer even more quickly, for Ser Jaime is the Queen's twin brother and was fully pardoned by King Robert and who is Sanos to question a king?)

For a moment, Sanos is unspeakably jealous of Prince Joffrey. With Ser Jaime as his uncle and the Hound as his guard, the boy must be quite the skilled warrior. But he squashes these feelings immediately. It will not do to foster such emotions, not if he's planning on joining Robert's (and one day, Joffrey's) Kingsguard.

Sanos offers a much-practiced bow upon his introduction to the King and Queen and his eyes flit to his father briefly, wondering what he'll say when Sanos is the youngest knight to ever don a White Cloak. He hopes his lord father will be proud. Oh the songs the bards would craft! A boy of but two and ten as a member of the Kingsguard and the finest knight in the land to boot. 

But Sanos cannot say for sure how Father will react. As the eldest boy, Sanos is meant to inherit Winterfell, but he finds the idea rather burdensome - the North is so unfailingly _dull_. There would be no songs crafted in his honor as the lord of a frozen wasteland. And more than anything, Sanos wants to be immortalized in song -- like Prince Aemon the Dragonknight.

So busy is Sanos, planning ways he might impress the visiting royals so as to warrant an invitation into the Kingsguard, that he does not notice the way Robert's eyes linger dangerously on Jonna Snow.

\-------

It is a fortnight later and he is on his way to the practice yard when he runs (quite literally) into Jonna. She is rather disheveled, her simple dress wrinkled and slightly off kilter and Sanos frowns, thinking that mayhaps she and Arry were crossing swords in the wolfswood again. He opens his mouth to reprimand his father's natural born daughter, to suggest that she raise her eyes to the beautiful Queen Cersei and learn how a true lady should behave (even if the unfortunate truth is that she is not, and never shall be, a true lady thanks to her bastard birth). But then Jonna grips his arm rather uncomfortably tight and requests he accompany her to the stables.

"Please, brother," comes her quiet request and for a moment, Sanos is so stunned he does not know _what_ to say.

He and Jonna have never been close, have spared few words to each other indeed since Sanos first understood what the word "bastard" meant and the slight her presence was upon his lady mother. But he nods his head in acquiescence nonetheless. Bastard-born or not, she is a woman and shares his father's blood. It would be unchivalrous to deny her request.

He sees her to the stables, though they share not a word along the way. When Sanos gives her the reigns to her horse, her hands are shaky in accepting them. Sanos frowns and opens his mouth to politely inquire as to her well-being , but then she is mounted and off, damn near flying through Winterfell's gates. 

Princess Myrcella is suddenly there, surrounded by her attendants, coyly asking him to show her the Glass Gardens and Sanos' half-formed concerns are no match for the Golden Princess' beauty. He is sure to compliment everything from the ribbons in her hair to how lovely her name sounds. Myrcella flushes and leans into him, breathlessly speaking of how gallant he looked in the practice yard, how surprised they'd all been when he defeated Rodrik Cassel.

Sanos cannot help the way his chest puffs out ever so slightly. He has practiced every day for hours on end since his father began allowing him to bear first wood and then steel and is so pleased his careful practicing is at last being rewarded. 

That night at dinner, when Ser Jaime openly acknowledges his skill with a blade and impeccable footwork, Sanos feels that perhaps he is fit to burst. Beside him, his sister Robyn makes what would appear to be a passing comment of how valiant he would look in Kingsguard white and, though most of the table accepts it for the jest Robyn meant it to be, Sanos cannot help but gratefully squeeze his sister's hand beneath the table. She offers him a discrete wink before turning back to Jeyne Poole and he can only pray that the seed she planted will indeed take root.

"I'm sure you'd look valiant in any shade, my lord," Myrcella whispers sweetly beside him and Sanos flashes her a dashing smile, already fancying himself half in love with her, and can only wonder at what his future in King's Landing would be like.

_I would guard first her father and then her brother, more noble and true than any knight that came before, but in secret we would love and long for each other. Mayhaps she'd even tempt me to break my vows with a stolen kiss or two, but of course I never would. Because a knight's vows are sacred above all others. It would be so wonderfully tragic, just like the songs._

He dances with Myrcella that night, and with Robyn and Branwyn too, and even Arry's grumpy mood and constant whining about their absent sister ( _half-sister_ , he mentally corrects, agreeing with his mother's decision to exclude her from their table, lest her presence offend Queen Cersei) cannot lessen his joy when Ser Jaime agrees to spar with him on the morrow.

\-------

He is beyond Winterfell's gates, out for a ride with Prince Joffrey, when they are set upon by a band of Wildlings. The Prince's guard is close, but not close enough and so Sanos unsheathes his sword. The two wild men he cuts down are the first kills on his blade and Sanos is surprised by how sickened he is by the sight of their blood on the summer snows. 

The Hound and another White Cloak arrive posthaste and dispatch of the final three, but it is Sanos that Joffrey boasts about to his father, how the Stark heir so easily threw himself in front of the heir to the Iron Throne. Queen Cersei (her eyes alit with something Sanos does not yet understand, but mistakes it to be affection) asks what gift they could give in thanks for his valiant efforts. He thinks of the blood on his sword, the queasiness in the pit of his stomach, for but a moment before reminding himself that this is the song he has always wanted. 

And so Sanos Stark kneels before his King and Queen, asking to pledge his life and sword to the crown for all of his days to come.

\--------

King Robert agrees to grant his request, given Father consents. It takes hours of pleading and arguing, but in the end, Eddard Stark gives in.

Sanos Stark is knighted by the King himself and proudly wears the White Cloak. He practices twice as hard with his sword and steadfastly ignores the disappointment in his Father's eyes and the tears that threaten to well up in Mother's as the time to depart draws near. 

This is for the best, they'll see, when his deeds immortalize the Stark name in song.

\-------

Then everything changes and Sanos' joy turns to horror.

\--------

Father becomes Hand and they ride for King's Landing. And then Arry shows up, Nymeros in tow, demanding vengeance and blood, spewing what must be lies for King Robert would never attempt the dishonor Arry claims he did with Jonna. Sanos tries to get his brother to listen to reason, but Arry has always been rash and then Joffrey draws his sword and Nymeros is rushing forward.

There is utter chaos for a moment, but when the dust settles, Joffrey's arm is bitten and Nymeros has run off, and Sanos is standing beside his King as Arry's fate is decided. Father pleads for Arry's life even as the Queen calls for his head. For a moment, Sanos cannot breathe because Arry is rude and impulsive and not at all like a proper lord should be, but he is his _brother_. Father falls to his knees in front of his childhood friend and Sanos would do much the same if he weren't completely in shock from it all.

In the end, Arry is sentenced to the Wall and Champion pays for Nymeros' crime. Sanos tries to bid his brother goodbye, tell him that this act is one of mercy from their King (and what else did he expect, riding in the way he did, calling for a King's head?), but Arry pushes him away, dark eyes more piercing than Ice, and calls him a stupid traitor. Sanos is so furious with everything (losing his brother, losing Champion, not knowing if Branwyn will ever wake up), that he loses his temper, tells Arry he is the traitor for trying to kill their king over the alleged dishonor of a bastard.

"She is my sister more than you will _ever_ be my brother," Arry spits.

The comment hurts more than Sanos wishes to admit and that is the only excuse he has for what he says next. "You belong to the Night's Watch now, Arry. You're no one's brother."

He storms off, returning to his knightly duties, and those are the last words he says to his brother.

Sanos will spend the rest of his life regretting it.

\--------

King Robert assures Father that Arry was mistaken, but Father writes to Jonna nonetheless. Sanos is not sure what would happen if Jonna verifies Arry's claim. ( _But no, it cannot be true. King Robert would never so dishonor his good friend or beautiful queen. It surely must have been a terrible mistake._ )

When Jonna's letter absolves the king of any wrongdoing, Sanos breathes a sigh of relief and scolds himself for worrying over it in the first place. And so Father remains on as Hand and (eventually) Joffrey stops sneering at him and Myrcella stops avoiding him and the Queen smiles once more and Sanos tries to erase the ordeal from his mind.

He guards his King and Queen and their golden children and pretends that all is well, but at night he cannot help but dream of Champion and the icy fate that awaits his brother. 

\-------

Then Robert dies and Joffrey is crowned, but Father calls the boy-King a bastard and loses his head for it. Sanos screams and rages and tries to fight his way to Father's side, cutting down one of his Kingsguard brothers in the process, but it is all for naught when Ser Meryn delivers a debilitating blow.

\-------

He has lost count of the days he's been held captive in the Black Cells. The food and water he is given is beyond meager. And he grows so hungry that he considers eating the rats that keep him company.

Sometimes members of the Kingsguard visit his cell. Ser Meryn and Ser Illyn are always the worst and the wounds they inflict on him litter his body with scars.

It is Sandor's visits that hurt the most, though. For the Hound does not deal him blows, but tells him of the war his sister Robyn wages, how Arry has deserted the Night's Watch (and taken a handful of others with him, if rumor holds correct). There is a price on Arry's head - one so high that Sanos knows his brother will soon join their lord father and he mourns his loss all over again. 

He is called before court whenever Joffrey is feeling especially malignant. He is given a wooden sword and thrown into a battle with an iron-armed opponent, one who has also sinned against the crown. They fight for Joffrey's amusement, to the death (always to the death), and with each life he takes, Sanos cannot help but wonder how many children he has orphaned, wives he has widowed, and innocents he has slain. For Joffrey is cruel and terrible and Sanos has no doubt that the men he's killed should not have met this fate.

Sometimes he falters in his footwork, considers lowering his sword, because what is he fighting for? His life? It has ceased to matter. He is a traitor to his kin and has broken vows he never should have taken in the first place (because the Hound is right - they are all liars and the vows are less than shit). But then Sanos thinks of Robyn and Branwyn and Rickara. And his lady mother too. 

So he continues to fight and to win because he cannot give up. Not until he has confessed his sins. Not until they know the truth - that it was his fault for not listening to Arry, for siding with the Queen, and oh if he could give his life to bring back their Father he would do so.

He has beaten another opponent and has him pressed against the ground, but the man is begging for clemency, and Sanos hesitates, feels a swell of pity for the man ( _Ser Dontos_ , he vaguely recalls) that is on the other end of his blade. But then Joffrey makes his demands and Sanos obeys, blood spilling in a sticky pool around his feet.

He is thrown back in his cell and weeps, for if he were a true knight he would refuse the combat, would spare the innocent. But he is selfish still, wants to live, to see his Mother and sisters again, even if it is only for them to condemn him.

As with everything else, the Hound had the right of it. There are no true knights. And if there were, Sanos knows he shall never be worthy to be counted amongst their ranks.

\-------

It is the Hound who brings him news of Branwyn and Rickara and Sanos rages for days, beating his fists against the bars and stone floor until they are bloody and will surely scar.

He makes himself a vow that night, shivering in the cold of the Black Cells, that if he ever escapes, he will offer Robyn and his lady mother Theon Greyjoy's head as penance. It will not be enough (nothing will _ever_ be enough), but Sanos hopes it will bring them some peace. 

He does not hope for peace for himself. He knows he is far beyond that. And only the seven hells await him now.

\-------

Joffrey delights in telling him of the deaths of Mother and Robyn. If he expected weeping and raging, then he is severely disappointed. Sanos says nothing, _feels_ nothing. He is empty inside and if Joffrey plans to make him fight again, he knows, for certain, that he will lose.

His family is gone. He has no desire to fight back. And he wonders if oblivion is the only comfort left to him.

\-------

Joffrey is dead and Littlefinger smuggles him out of the Red Keep amidst the chaos. He travels to the Vale, dies his hair brown, and poses as Alyn Stone, the bastard son of Petyr Baelish.

Petyr is ever-kind, always fatherly, and Sanos remembers the Hound's words, knows instinctively that Littlefinger will want something in return. Though what, he's not quite sure.

\-------

Rumors filter up to the Vale, of the dead that rise again and a woman that has united the Night's Watch and the wildlings and leads them both as Lady Commander. The bastard daughter of Eddard Stark, they say, and for a single moment, Alyn Stone forgets himself, cannot help but whisper "Jonna".

 _I'm a bastard too, now,_ he thinks. Just like her. _Oh, it would be so sweet to see her again._

And for the first time in years, he feels a flicker of hope. Mayhaps he is not alone after all.

He'd given up swordplay upon arrival in the Vale. Petyr encouraged the decision. Alyn Stone had no experience with a sword, after all. But with the news of his sister's survival (oh how he laments having ever been so cruel as to call her half-sister), Sanos once again takes up steel. He is clumsy at first, out of practice, but he trains in the yard with vigor and it slowly returns to him.

Petyr is discouraging and so Sanos must keep his practicing a secret. But, though he will play along with Littlefinger's schemes, he refuses to give up entirely. For at last, he has a purpose. 

Jonna is alive. Soft-spoken, shy, honorable Jonna. And, as Father once said, there must always be a Stark in Winterfell. Bastard daughter of Eddard Stark or no, Jonna was far more worthy than he. 

\-------

In the end, Sanos is not the one to rescue Jonna. She rescues him.

The Dragon Queen and her Nephew-Husband arrive in the Vale and Petyr bends the knee, offering up Sanos as a gift. "The last of the Starks," he says, and whether he means for Sanos to be their ally or sacrifice is left up to interpretation.

Aegon Targaryan sizes him up like a sack of meat and the Mother of Dragons seems content to let her husband decide his fate.

"You will not touch him," comes a soft, but commanding voice. One Sanos is well-familiar with and when his sister steps out from the shadows, Sanos falls to his knees before her. Words fail him as they never have before and he does not know where to begin, which sins to confess and apologize for first.

He does not get the chance.

Jonna kneels next to him, rests a hand against his cheek, her grey eyes swimming. "Sanos," she whispers, and he is lost, pulling her close and wrapping his arms around her, trembling so as to keep his tears at bay.

Aegon seems disappointed that there will be no blood spilt. Daenerys just smiles.

\-------

Jonna finds him in his rooms that evening after dinner and tells him that she is not his sister, but rather his cousin. And a Targaryan at that, Princess of Dragonstone now. She blushes at the title, tells him she's not quite sure how it's all happened - how she went from bastard to Lady Commander to the Princess that was Promised, raised from the dead to defeat the Others.

She tells him tales that are so fantastical, he knows the bards must already be crafting songs about her. Her beauty and bravery and how a girl raised as baseborn found herself heir to (and savior of) Seven Kingdoms. Then she tells him that Rickara lives and the emotions he'd held at bay burst free.

She spends the night in his bed, holding his body as it's wracked with sobs, for all that was lost, for what little remains. And when he confesses his sins - Mother, Father, Robyn, Branwyn, Arry, Champion - all gone because he was a fool who believed life was a song - Jonna offers him no comforting lies or reassurances, she simply cards her fingers through his hair and calls him brother.

"Don't," Sanos whispers, stilling her hands. _I'm not worthy of your touch._ "I'm not worthy of the title."

Jonna smiles down at him, but it is lined with sadness. "You are not alone in the blame, Sanos."

She says no more and he has enough of his own past hurts not to press the matter. They spend the night curled around each other. It is the first night in several years that Sanos finds peace in his sleep instead of nightmares.

\-------

It is Tyrion Lannister who reveals to him the truth of Petyr Baelish's involvement in his Father's capture. 

Littlefinger's head flies through the Moon Door. His body is fed to the dragons.

\-------

Ghost is waiting for them when they finally descend the Eyrie. Sanos freezes and his heart aches, feeling the absence of Champion's presence even more acutely than the taut pull of his numerous scars. He does not know how the direwolf will react - he knows animals can sense the truth in a person's nature far better than humans. Sanos has a fleeting picture in his mind - of Ghost lunging for his throat and ripping it to shreds, his traitor's blood staining the pure snow. It is a better death than he'd deserve, Sanos thinks.

He is surprised, instead, by Ghost nuzzling his hip. Sanos buries his fingers in her fur and thanks the Old Gods for small mercies (he does not pray to the Seven anymore, not since Father's blood spilled across their Great Sept). On his other side, Jonna grips his hand, squeezing lightly, offering him comfort and support.

Sanos smiles and for the first time in longer than he can recall, it is an honest one.

\-------

Winterfell is only half as ruined as he thought it would be. Daenerys had already given her niece enough gold and men that the repairs were well under way and, hopefully, would be finished before winter was fully upon them. Sanos is so relieved, so thankful to be back that if he could offer his bones and blood to the home of his father, he would gladly do so. He has realized, all too late, that he never should have left in the first place.

He keeps his emotions in check, however. He refuses to break down in front of Daenerys and Aegon. Not after all the (rather undeserved) compliments Jonna has spoken in regards to his strength and character. But all of his intentions are lost when Rickara comes streaking his way from across the yard. She all but flings herself into his arms and suddenly Sanos is spinning her in circles, laughing and crying and holding her tight, with Shaggydog prancing around their feet.

He catches Jonna watching from a distance, a quiet smile on her lips, and he recognizes that look. The one that speaks of discomfort and feeling an outsider. The one he fostered with his corrections of half-sister and exaggerated courtesies he gave Robyn, but neglected to bestow upon her.

Sanos keeps Rickara in his arms (cannot let her down, not yet, mayhaps not ever) and strides over to Jonna, pulling her into the embrace, burying his face in her sable hair and the last of the Starks cling to each other.

Slowly, though he does not yet recognize it, the shattered remains of Sanos' heart and hopes begin to knit themselves back together.

\-------

The Dragon Queen tries to name him Warden of the North. Sanos refuses outright, proclaiming the North belongs to Rickara, or Jonna should she so desire it. Jonna shakes her head. "I am not a Stark, Sanos."

"Yes you are," he states, face set and tone unyielding.

"No," she gently corrects him. "I was once a Snow, and now I am a Targaryan, but I have never been a Stark."

There is no pride to her words, only resignation and a hint of sorrow. It eats at Sanos because he does not know how to fix it and he never wishes to see his sister ( _cousin_ , he bitterly reminds himself) in pain again.

Sanos tries to speak to Rickara, but she is untamable, having spent her formative years in the hands of a Wildling woman. He worries that she will never be fit to rule and Jonna must share his sentiments for she comes to him one night, serious-faced as always, and tells him that no matter his feelings, he must do his duty.

The words shake him as none others could. _Family, duty, honor_. The first has been (largely) lost to him. The third he destroyed himself. He cannot let the second meet the same fate. 

Sanos Stark is proclaimed Lord of Winterfell the next day. 

\------

The Targaryans are to depart on the morrow and Jonna confides to him that Daenerys and Aegon are pondering whom to marry her off to - which noble house would best suit their purposes. Sanos rages as he hasn't in years, draws his sword and lays it at Jonna's feet, tells her he'll let no man or woman, king or queen, force her to leave Winterfell for some southron lands. "Starks do not do well south of the Neck."

"You forget again, cousin," Jonna says, a slight smile on her lips, as if it has become their personal joke. "I am not a Stark."

And just like that, the answer comes to him.

\-------

They are wed beneath the Godswood and, at last, Jonna is a Stark. The wedding is a subdued affair, one hardly befit a Targaryan princess and the Lord of Winterfell, and passes by in a blur. In years to come, Sanos will not remember what food was served or which songs were played or that Jonna's dancing skills were as dreadful in womanhood as they had been in her youth.

But he will never forget their bedding. And how utterly embarrassing it had been. 

Pushed into their chambers in naught but their small clothes, Sanos is surprised (but far from displeased) when Jonna kneels before him and presses a kiss to his cock before taking it in her mouth and swirling her tongue in a wicked manner. He spends himself in her mouth so quickly she nearly chokes and Sanos is torn between offering profuse apologies and wanting to throw himself off Winterfell's highest turret.

After catching her breath, Jonna merely shakes her head with a rueful smile. "Are you a maid, my lord?"

"I'm afraid so, my lady. And please, allow me to apologize --"

"There is no need," she interrupts. "We shall simply try again."

It takes two more attempts before Sanos is able to spend himself inside her. And he thinks there can be no better feeling in the North -- no -- in all of Westeros than that of her slick walls clenching around him as he finds his release.

With shaky arms, he supports himself so as not to crush Jonna with his weight. She favors him with a lovely smile, but he cannot help but remember that though her ministrations had torn her name from his lips, Jonna herself had remained silent all the while.

"I want you to cum too." 

"If it would please you, my lord."

"Sanos."

"Sanos," she breathes, and lowers her hand toward the thatch of dark curls between her legs. He catches her hand, raises it to his lips for a kiss.

"No. Show me how."

Eyes hooded with lust, Jonna guides his hand toward her curls and shows him what to do. He follows her directions, running his fingers along her folds, brushing her nub with his thumb, and slipping a finger into her core, until it emerges wet with her pleasure. But despite her moans or encouragement, Sanos knows that something is missing, something that keeps her from calling out his name.

And then he thinks back to her tongue caressing his cock and Sanos flashes her a wicked grin before spreading her legs apart and kneeling between them. When he flicks his tongue out in tentative exploration, her breath immediately hitches and her fingers find purchase in his mop of red hair. He grows bold when her legs grant him further access, rubbing circles in her thighs with his thumbs as he gently sucks her nub.

"Sanos, oh gods, please don't stop!"

He doesn't. Not until her fingers turn to claws on his scalp and she cums with such force that he thinks the whole castle may have heard her screams.

"You'll teach me, won't you?" he asks afterward, arms wrapped around his lady wife, holding her tightly to him as if he never means to be parted from her again. "Everything it is you like? To make it good for you."

Jonna presses a kiss to his chin. "My sweet Sanos. We shall teach each other."

As they bask in the warmth of their afterglow, Sanos feels more safe and at home than he has since he first went south. "Who was he? Your first."

He is not jealous, merely curious, and wonders if it was a Wildling that first stole her heart. Or perhaps a man of the Night's Watch. Perhaps that Tarly boy, whom she speaks so fondly of --

"Robert Baratheon."

Sanos freezes and has to remind himself to breathe. His arms clench even tighter around Jonna. She says no more on the matter, but nor does she need to. Sanos chokes back a sob and thinks, not for the first time, that Arry was right. He is a stupid fool.

Jonna falls asleep in his arms, but Sanos stays up well into the night, wishing that the Red Woman could resurrect Robert Baratheon, if only so that Sanos could send him to the Seven Hells once more.

\-------

Their first child is born six months after winter has finally come. Sanos would have set the bells ringing from sun up to sun down, if they weren't already frozen stiff. Instead, the servants celebrate the arrival of the latest Stark as Sanos and Rickara curl in bed with Jonna, who holds their infant son in her arms. Ghost joins them, nuzzling the babe with the greatest care.

She settles at their feet as Rickara asks to hold her nephew and Sanos supports her while she does. 

"What his name?" 

"Torrhen," Jonna answers. They share a smile over Rickara's red curls, his name their own private joke. Daenerys and Aegon had written them congratulations once news of Jonna's pregnancy had reached King's Landing. They'd also reminded Lord and Lady Stark that the child was to be their heir, as Daenerys could bear none of her own.

"Wasn't the last King in the North named Torrhen?" Rickara asks.

"He was indeed."

Rickara stares down at her dark haired, grey eyed nephew in awe. "He looks just like Arry, don't you think?"

"Yes," Jonna chokes out, running a hand down Rickara's back. "He does look quite like Arry."

"When do you think we'll see him again?"

Pain wells in Sanos' chest and he finds Jonna's hand, squeezing hard, her eyes reflecting the same clear sorrow in his own.

"Arry is gone, sweetling," he tells her as gently as he can. "He's not coming back."

"Of course he is," Rickara says, with childlike certainty. "Winter's just delayed him, is all."

"Rickara --"

She shushes him, placing Torrhen in his arms even as she calls Shaggydog to the already crowded bed. The direwolf settles by Ghost, licking at the babe's feet with affection.

"Don't you visit the godswood, brother? Don't you hear Branwyn's voice in the leaves?"

Sanos and Jonna share a look. They'd both heard it too, but had passed it off as wishful thinking and the ghosts of their pasts. But if Rickara heard Branwyn as well…

"And what does she say to you?" Jonna asks.

Rickara grins, fisting her hand in Shaggydog's fur even as she leans closer. "That the wolves will come again."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! If you could please take a moment to comment as well, I'd be very grateful! :)


End file.
